The Falcon's Apprentices
by bookworm383
Summary: The drums of war were coming, and with it the winds of change. Draco Malfoy thought his fate was set, and so did Hermione Granger. As far as they knew their fates were concrete, and they were...just not in the way that they expected. The Slytherin Prince and the Brightest Witch of Her Age were in for a huge surprise.


**Disclaimer: Love the ideas J.K. Rowling had developed in the stories, but never created it myself. Just an admirer exploring another outlook on a beloved tale :)**

Draco opened his eyes groggily and let out a groan, his head pounding as if drums had been played right by his ears. He was sure he didn't drink that much firewhiskey at Blaise's before he came home, yet it seemed as though he had gained the worst hangover of his life. That's the last time he drinks whatever his friend's mother had to give him, that crazy witch. Draco wondered vindictively if that's what chased away the dozens of men she dated over the years.

He rubbed his forehead wearily in hopes of soothing the pounding of his head but instead smeared dirt all over his forehead. His eyes widened and he sat up quickly, nearly giving him whiplash and increasing the pain of his headache. He winced, moving his hand to the side of his head as though he could hold the pain at bay. At the same time, he squinted his eyes, and actually took a moment to look at where he was.

Rubbing his dirt covered fingers together and feeling the surface he sat on, Draco quickly realized he wasn't on his bed, maybe not even inside the grounds of the Manor. Instead he was on a pile of dirt outdoors somewhere. He also came to the conclusion that he couldn't see.

Like, at all.

All there seemed to be was darkness.

The platinum haired wizard stood up unsteadily where he sat, using the sturdiness of the ground to ensure he wouldn't fall. He rubbed his hands against his cotton pajama pants while looking around for any sort of clue as to where he was. Once he stood at his full height, he had hoped he would be more aware of his surroundings, but the only thing he could see was the pitch black.

He attempted to take a step forward, but encountering another pile of dirt he ended up stumbling. He fell abruptly, hitting the ground with a loud _oof_. Draco scowled at nothing and shifted to kneel, planting his hands and feet on the ground, which he just now realized had no grass or trace of any plant.

 _Yeah, so this is definitely not the Manor._

He couldn't hear anything, and he couldn't see anything. All he was certain of was the dirt underneath his hands and between his toes.

 _What the hell happened last night?_ Draco was unsure if he was dreaming or if he never made it home in the first place and Blaise was just playing a sick joke on him. That sounds like something his friend would do to him just for kicks and chuckles. That mischievous bastard.

After a few more minutes of nothing but darkness and dirt, Draco truly began to feel anxious. A joke wouldn't have taken this long, by now something would have been sprung on him. A hex, a humiliating charm, a bucket of snakes. Anything, really.

However, due to fifteen years of training to be both a Slytherin and a Malfoy, he refused to let the emotion overwhelm him. He maintained a stoic mask despite there being no one to see it, and he kept his mind steady, despite the growing pounding against his skull.

Him being a Slytherin, the first thing he began to contemplate was retribution to those who dared mess with a Malfoy. Someone was going to pay for the situation he found himself in, he just wasn't sure who yet.

The thought of revenge lifted his mood, and so he decided to try standing from where he was positioned once again. Halfway through the motions Draco froze, the hairs on his body standing on end. He definitely sensed a new presence within vicinity.

A magical presence. And it was quickly approaching him from behind.

Draco turned around swiftly to face the threat when all of a sudden he heard the rustle of wings and then-

The worst screech you could possibly imagine permeated the air, absolutely deafening with its volume.

He was brought to his knees from the mere force of the noise, shoving his hands over his ears to create some sort of barrier. But the noise only grew and grew and with it came a blinding light.

Draco screamed from the sense overload, falling to his side and curling up into a ball. He shut his eyes and next thing he knew-

He was awake. Soaked in sweat and trembling, but awake.

Releasing several gasps of breathe, Draco proceeded to process _what the bloody hell just happened._

He had never had a nightmare like that before, not even after his father, Lucius, had brought Death Eaters and the deformed Lord Voldemort to their home for their first meeting the summer after fourth year. He didn't think he'd ever get the image of the reborn Dark Lord out of his mind, or the feeling that arose in the depths of his stomach that felt distinctly like fear.

Draco wasn't entirely sure, but he felt as if that creature was a magical bird of some sort, that could be the only answer for the powerful effect the sound it emitted had on Draco.

Still feeling slightly shaken from the dream Draco shifted out of his lying position, forgoing his shirt due the sweat and made to get up from his bed.

"Jertie," he called out as he made his way to the door. He looked out his window, and realized it was still dark outside, so it must be sometime in the early morning. He repressed a whimper of despair from being up so early, as he was used to lazy mornings during the summer.

The old House Elf immediately appeared in front of the door just as Draco opened it. "What may Jertie do for you, young Master Draco?"

Jertie had been with the Malfoys for longer than Draco's been alive. Hell, he even fathered that crazy elf Dobby, who mysteriously disappeared from the Manor a couple of years ago. His father had been pissed about it, but he never explained what happened to the creature. Nevertheless, Jerdie has always been a loyal and competent elf, despite the loss of his son.

"Get me a cuppa, would you," Draco mumbled as he stepped past the house elf to enter the hallway. "Two sugars this time. I have something to attend to so in about ten minutes so leave it in my room. It should be hot by the time I get back."

"Of course, young Master." With that, Jerdie disappeared.

Draco made his way out his Living Quarters and down to the library, where he was sure he could find out more about the bird. Every book since the first documented Malfoy was in that library, he's sure that his family has records of things people haven't even heard of.

When he got close to the library, he heard voices. Nowadays Draco never knew who would appear in his house since the Dark Lord was back, but the urgency to figure out what the hell his dream meant out weighted any apprehension he felt about any unexpected guest.

Just as he was about to open the door, he heard his mother's voice. "-don't think we should jump to conclusions."

"What choice do we have? I think it's clear that this affects our son, and we have no idea what the repercussions could be from our inaction." Draco couldn't mistake the icy tone of his father's voice. There was something strange about it now however, it almost sounded as if he was worried.

But that would be impossible. The thing with the Malfoy patriarch is that he doesn't reveal his emotions for anything. Even when he actually is worried, the only way you would know is through the careful, obscure words he would use when he addresses you.

Something must be wrong. Like "rebirth of the Dark Lord" wrong.

"I refuse to make an assumption unless we know for sure."

Draco heard a bang and nearly jumped, almost exposing his cover.

"Dammit, Narcissa! The silver tongued dragon! Are you seriously going to deny that this obviously was intended to be our son?"

There was silence, and with it a tension Draco could probably still feel from a mile away. He heard his mother sigh. "What can we do then? From what this says it seems as if the prophecy has already started, and our son and the Dark Lord are unquestionably linked from here on out."

It took some serious willpower for Draco to not make a sound, though his mind was racing at a mile a minute. What kind of prophecy was this? How did it concern the Dark Lord? How did it concern _him_?

His father spoke. "This complicates _everything_ , but as always, we do what's best for this family to survive." His father stalked to the door, causing Draco to hastily cast a concealment charm and move out the way. Luckily for him, his father paused before he made it to the door to say one last thing.

"No matter the cost."

Those words sent a shiver down Draco's spine, and before he could fully think of why his father had stormed out the door. He began to walk in the direction of his room when he stilled right beside the door, a couple of feet from where his disillusioned son was stationed. The young wizard caught his breath and froze as Lucius abruptly turned his head to directly where he was standing.

Draco tensed up, not ready to confront his father yet about what he had just heard. Part of him, the knowledge craving part, was dying to talk to his parents about what was happening. The other more rational part of him, however, reasoned that if his parents knew this whole time they most likely wouldn't be willing to open up to him now. If anything, they would Obliviate him.

Also, after what his father had just said Draco wasn't entirely sure what he would do if he found out that his son knew about the prophecy. By his words, it seemed as if Lucius wished the prophecy never existed, and that he would do anything to prevent it from happening. When his father willing to break every limit things typically didn't bode well for the recipient. In this case, that would be him.

His father had always been stern with him. Draco was the only child, and on top of that the only son. Everything that belonged to the family would fully belong to him when he was of age, which made his role crucial to the future of the Malfoy name. Due to the circumstances, Lucius always felt the need to be strict, unrelenting, and most of all unforgiving.

Once, when Draco had been a little wizard of up to five years old, he looked to find out about the species that his father detested oh so much, Muggleborns. Considering all the passion and time Lucius invested into the degradation of those born of Muggles, Draco figured he should learn more, in hoped to get closer to his father that never spent much time with him. Secretly, knowing subconsciously that his father would be vehemently against his curiosity, he went to Flourish and Blotts with his mother to buy a guide to the Muggle World book he saw earlier. Of course, he did this under the pretense of needing more books.

His mother was happy to see him wanting to read more, and declared she would buy him whatever he wanted. She didn't even look at the stack he cultivated, and so Draco was able to slip the book in easily.

Once he got home he took the book and darted to the Library to read the book, feeling excitement to finally have something to share with his father. He read it until night came, and he inadvertently fall asleep. When he woke, he was met by the sight of his father examining the Muggle guide book with an enraged look on his face.

Draco gasped, having never seen his father such a way, but unfortunately drew unwanted attention onto himself. Once Lucius realized he was awake, he turned his icy gaze on his son. With a steady hand and deliberate movement, he lifted his cane, a swung it through the air until it made contact. Repeatedly.

He didn't stop until Narcissa rushed into the room, screaming for him to stop, but by then Draco was already, graciously, unconscious.

After that day his father watched his every move, making sure he never indulged in his "curiosities" ever again. Although Draco hoped his exploring of Muggles would bring father and son closer together, it instead tore them farther apart. Since then, Lucius always saw his son as a disappointment waiting to happen, and Draco learned to always wear a mask of the perfect pureblood son in front of his father.

Being exposed today, in a middle of a talk about him and this prophecy, would surely mean terrible things for him once again.

Lucius' steely eyes remained narrowed in his direction for what seemed like forever. After a few moments of nothing happening, his father scowled and stormed away in the direction of his Living Quarters.

Shortly after Lucius' departure, his mother left the room, her eyes tinged red and her gait slow. She hesitated for a second and glanced wearily in his direction, and continued on to bed.

After waiting a couple of moments. Draco removed the Concealment charm and let out a slow breath. Stealing himself for whatever he might see, he opened the doors and carefully entered the library.

The Manor's library was grand, suiting the rich family history of purity and, for the most part, prosperity. More bookshelves than one could count were lined up in a linear order, from oldest to newest documents. In the middle of all the shelves there were numerous tables for the use of studying a research, exactly what Draco planned on doing.

There was no sign of whatever his parents had been talking about. Every book was in its place and every table clear of parchment. Whatever prophecy his parents had been talking about had been put back in its place, out of sight.

Draco mouthed a filthy curse, but decided to persist nonetheless to figure out more about his dream.

" _Lumos_ ," Draco murmured. He circled around the tables and stood facing the entrance, wondering just where he would start in his search for answers. He started to head straight, when all of a sudden a bright light, just like the one in his dream began to glow from his right. Draco swiveled from where he stood, wondering exactly how much more bizarre this night could get, before padding slowly in the direction the light was coming from.

As he drew closer to the right side of the library, he saw that the light came from within one of the bookshelves, appearing as a thin rectangle right in the middle the side of its structure.

Draco brought his hand up cautiously, reaching for a light that strangely enough, he felt wouldn't harm him. He could honestly say at least half of the books in his library was full of Dark Magic, after all his family is known for tampering with such things and knowledge is knowledge.

This light, despite its ominous implications, oddly seemed to give him comfort, soothing the lingering effects of the headache he obtained in his sleep.

Once his hand was about a foot away from the light, he started to feel a pull on his hand, attempting to draw him closer and closer, nearly causing him to tip forward into the shelf. Beginning to feel truly apprehensive now, he pulled his hand back and just like that, an object came flying out of the shelf and straight at him.

Draco's silver eyes widened with surprise. Luckily at that same moment his seeker instincts kicked in, and he swiped the object out of the air swiftly, preventing it from hitting him right in the head which inevitably would have brought on his headache anew. His eyes focused on the strange object in his hand after it stopped glowing, which just so happened to be a book.

 _Go figure,_ Draco thought with a scoff. He rubbed off the dust from the cover of the book and and gripped it with both his hands, taking in the mysterious piece of literature.

The book was a dark forest-like green, with edges outlined in what Draco thought had to be pure gold. There were intricate designs and frivolous swirls all over the book. At the very center of the book, there was a design of a bird in flight, its wings outstretched midmotion. It's eyes looked nearly alive, and pierced Draco's very soul, almost giving the appearance of being able to read his mind.

He recognized the bird, and instinctively knew this had been the bird called out to him in his dream.

It was a falcon.

"Well hello there," Draco murmured to the object. He had a feeling this book would be able to solve all of his unanswered questions.

Knowing that his parents, they would probably notice the book's disappearance. He quickly cast a Duplication spell and placed the copy back within the shelf.

He looked at his surroundings once more, to ensure nobody was watching him, but his only witness was the darkness of the night. Finally stealing away to his room, the doors of the library closing with a thud, the movement of the door the being only evidence that he had ever been there.

In the Muggle World, within Hampstead village, the Brightest Witch of Her Age had a similar dream.

 **AN: Please read and review. I'm just getting back into this and would really appreciate the feedback, so until next time!**


End file.
